This is a photo that means a lot to me and I was rather amazed to discover that I hadn’t posted it here already.
Sisters Vilma and Maria were 9 and 6 or thereabouts on my first visit to Guatemala in 2005. They were two of the most happy, playful, bubbly kids in a huge group that visited us each day at the church where we were working. Their father was an agricultural worker and elder in the congregation and their mother ran the family home, a plank and corrugated tin hut on the hill above the church.
That trip had a profound impact on me. Although we went back to the same church 2 years later, we didn’t see Vilma and Maria on that trip and I still wonder, pretty much every day, what they are doing now, 9 years later. Maybe some day, I’ll be able to go back and find out.
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